the man who can't be moved
by shiksa goddess
Summary: "do you realize what you mean to me?"/ or, Austin's not exactly sure what he wants. except really, he is. auslly


**Title: the man who can't be moved  
>InspirationPlaylist: Innocent- Taylor Swift, The Man Who Can't Be Moved- The Script, The Guide- Borne  
>Disclaimer: yeah.. I don't own.<strong>

::twenty::

for a moment, life is perfect.  
>if he could freeze-frame, right there, he'd be fine. ally by his side, on stage, dez and trish off somewhere in the screaming audience, the shimmering disco ball poised to drop at the strike of midnight.<p>

"_hey, hey, I will always stay, by your side forever, 'cause we're better together."_

the music ends and a million and one people scream his name, posters with his face plastered on them waving in the frigid New York air.

girls are fawning at the superstar, and his dreams are coming true, but the only part of his dream that he really needs is right behind him, backstage, beaming at him.

He runs backstage, and ally wraps him in a huge hug.

"you were amazing, austin moon!" she laughs, keeping her arms secure around his neck.

he grins. "thanks! you look beautiful, als." he's not sure where it comes from, but it's goddamn true.

she looks flattered but puzzled, and strobe lights make her brown eyes glow hazel, even in the dim backstage.

"um, thanks?" she replies, screaming over the loud cheers of the audience.

"ten...nine..." the countdown begins, and the cameras that had been on him were now on ryan seacrest and lady gaga.

austin looked at his songwriter, his best friend, his life support for all these years now. she was supposed to be "just a friend", but she looked so beautiful in that silver dress and_-ohgod,ohgod,what are these butterflies?-_ and all the memories come back. how safe he felt when she was near him, and how pretty she looked when she was alone, writing a song, deep in thought, when she thought no one was looking.

how pretty she always was. 

"two,one.." the crowd explodes in a chorus of "happy new years!" and michael buble does a rendition of _auld lang syne._

"happy new year, austin!" ally screams, turning to face him, and he has a sudden urge to kiss her.

so he does. with a foolish grin on his face, he plants his lips on hers.

"happy new year's,ally!"

and in that moment, life is a utopia.

but, not really.

/

::twenty-five:::

she's gone. she's moved on with her life, getting a degree in creative writing from NYU. she _was_ the scholar of the group, after all.  
>but trish and dez are still here, so team austin hasn't really disbanded, has it?<p>

his friends convince him that she'll be back, and what does he have to worry, anyways?

ally was, first and foremost, his songwriter. replaceable, they said.

"no, first and foremost, ally was my friend! and you guys act like she wasn't your friend, too!" he yells.

they feel slightly guilty, but they both can hold a grudge, and when ally left to go further her education, their friendships with her had ended.

"austin, you need to move on. i'm not your life support anymore. you're austin moon, one of the biggest superstars of the century. your name is up in lights on every street corner. isn't that all you ever wanted?"

"that's what i thought," he sighs.

she groans in frustration at her best friend's stubbornness.

"then tell me,austin, what else _do_ you want?" she says impatiently.

his eyes flicker to the pictures of him and her covering his mantle.

there's ten-thousand square feet of ground to cover, but the only pictures in the mansion are of him and ally.

he shakes his head. "never mind,als. i've got a meeting with my manager."

"okay, austin. call me back if you figure out what it is you want. maybe i can help you find it."

the hang up button clicks, and she's gone again.

"you." he thinks. "i want you."

::twenty-seven::

"you can't live like this, austin. it's just not healthy."

dez wades through austin's mansion, the floor littered with beer bottles and sorrow.

a stack of unpaid bills lay on the kitchen table, but he can't see them anymore, they're buried in the avalanche of uneaten food.

"who cares about living, dez? she's gone. and she's not coming back."

dez swipes the beer from austin's hand before he can take another swig of it.

"just because ally hasn't talked to you in three years, doesn't mean you can wallow in pity and beer."

austin's bloodshot brown eyes meet dez's blue, burning sincerity and anguish from man to man.

"you don't understand. i love her. i love her, and no one else. i want to spend the rest of my life with her, and she won't say a word to me."

dez kicks one of the empty brown bottles before picking it up.

"then maybe you should let go."

austin lets the idea run through his mind, but only before a second until he deems it ridiculous. let go of ally dawson? never.

he stares blankly at the mantle, still covered in pictures of himself and ally in their teenage years. the shelf is dusty, and the only new addition is a small velvet box, holding nothing but a diamond ring and a forgotten dream.

"it's just..it's a lot of talk for never actually going on a date with the girl."

he forgot. no one knew, no one knew that their one little new year's kiss had flourished into love, true and pure as far as he knew, where she was his and he was hers and they has late night rendezvous and kissed just because they could.

and then she got an opportunity as a songwriter for epic records, and a full college scholarship, and it's all the way up in new york, but it's such a wonderful, once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

and who was he to stop her dreams, when all she'd ever done was make his come true?

dez interrupts his reminiscing when he places a hand on the singer's shoulder.

"well, i suggest you try and get ready. this gig is really important-it's the American Music Awards- and you've already blown off three of your tour dates. you can't be "sick" for much longer." dez sighs, a condescending tone to his voice. austin nods dismissively, and dez slowly makes his way out the front door, taking austin's beer with him.

.

the gig is in five minutes, but austin moon is still sitting in his armchair, not moving until ally dawson shows up.

::twenty-nine::

"dude, you seriously need help."

he tries to make a comeback he really does, but alcohol does a horrible thing to your voice. he sounds like a hardcore rocker now, not like a teen heartthrob.

trish gives him a once-over. bloodshot eyes, partly shaved stubble, and ratty clothes.

"we can fix this!" she says reassuringly.

Her" minions" come in and fix his appearance, and he _looks_ the part once again, but he definitely didn't feel it.

when he comes offstage, he pukes. and when he's onstage, his head hurts. this alcohol, it's driving him down, too much.

trish's words ring in his head on a constant loop: "dude, you need help."

he finishes the show, but no one asks for an encore this time.

his head is pounding and his stomach quivers, but he has to admit, he's sorta disappointed.

.

it's his turn.

"hi, i'm austin, this is my first time, and i've been sober for … the last twelve hours."

"maybe."

alcoholics anonymous is not very anonymous when you're an international superstar.

::thirty::

he's young, bold, and confident. his bills are paid, and if he does say so himself, he's pretty damn hot. and he's been officially sober for a year and six months, thank you very much.

but he's not ready to see 's not that he doesn't want to, he just doesn't think there'd be all that much to say.

but here she is, standing in front of him, looking like some sort of Greek goddess and his heart is pounding out of his chest.  
>he was awestruck by her beauty, which was even more radiant than he'd remembered. who had given her permission to look like that? to have flowing brown hair and glittering brown eyes and to melt his heart with every breath she took?<p>

she's tantalizing him, and pulling at his heartstrings, and his breathing is becoming far too rapid than he'd like to admit (or for her to notice),and there he is, supposedly _confident and strong_ but falling in love with a girl he couldn't have all over again

she really shouldn't have this effect on him anymore-he's austin moon, the superstar, right?  
>he could have anything he wanted, women fell at his feet, but all he'd ever wanted was embodied in ally dawson, and she didn't feel the same.<br>and the thought of that fucking _hurt._

"wow, austin moon. i never thought you'd try to grace the likes of a commoner like me these days, superstar." she jokes lightheartedly, giving him that angel smile he'd always loved.

he chuckles, wrapping his old flame into a hug. "you know i couldn't forget about you."

she just didn't know how much he meant it.

"you seem different, austin." she commented worriedly, tucking a piece of stray blonde hair behind his ear. he guesses she'd always had a way of knowing him far too well. "what's wrong?"

um, had she _not_ seen the billions of tabloid covers screaming "Austin Moon's Alcoholic Affairs"?  
>and had she <em>not<em> looked in a mirror lately?

he diverts his eyes to a tree behind her.

"well, you see, alls, I guess I still never figured out what it is I wanted."

ally frowns. "well, whatever it is, i hope you find it. it's great to see you, austin. we really need to hang out sometime, you should call me! i'm at the L.A. branch of epic records now, you could call there, or I still have the same cell number-" she pauses abruptly.

"why'd you stop talking?"

"i'm doing it again, talking too much, aren't i?"she laughs slightly and gives him a crooked smile.

he shakes his head. "no, no, i like it. these days, it doesn't feel like enough people _are_ talking to me. it's more just talking at me. i really kind of miss the way you talk a mile a minute. i like it…i always have."

she smiles shyly and presses a slip of paper-presumably with her phone number- into his palm.

"you really should call me sometime, austin."

she hugs him quickly, and then walks away, as she had so many times before. he pretends not to notice the diamond ring sparkling subtly on her finger.

:::thirty-one:::

he sees her again. fate really does just hate him, doesn't it?

the engagement ring is gone. no wedding band replaces it. she doesn't explain, and he doesn't ask.

probably because he only sees her on the cover of People magazine. she's going places, that ally dawson, but so is he. he just wishes they were going the _same_ places.

or at least that they'd meet at some point on their journeys.

the paparazzi is off him for a while though, which should be a good thing, but he's fame-hungry, he's always been.

he craves the attention, the spotlight solely focused on him. but now ally's getting it all, and even though he knows she's not all that interested in the power-this _is _the girl who, fifteen years ago (_has it really been that long?)_ chewed her hair and couldn't perform in front of stuffed animal- but he feels like she's hogging it on purpose.

he walks into the tiffany's and walks out with the diamond watch he tried on. without paying for it.

he needs this attention.

he needs ally back.

::thirty-one & a half::

"austin moon, your sentence is three years in prison, or one-hundred thousand dollars bail, on a felony charge of grand theft."

.

he was supposed to be the pure one, the teeny-bop star turned adult megastar.  
>he didn't get tied up in drugs, and he'd gotten over the alcohol years ago. up until now, he didn't do anything extraordinarily <em>bad <em>to get the media's attention, and he didn't follow in britney or lindsey's footsteps.  
>he was supposed to be the good one.<p>

but maybe he wasn't that different,after all.

.

he doesn't get to absorb much of life in jail, but his little interaction with the prisoners scared him out of his wits.

surprisingly, ally dawson comes to bail him out after forty-eight hours. but then again, it's not really _that_ surprising.

"how'd you find out?"

ally rolls her eyes. "it's all over the media, dumbass. and according to the police, i'm still the number one speed-dial on your phone, so they called me. care to explain?"

"the speed dial, or why i'm in jail?"

ally stops dead in her tracks. "both."

he prods her to keep walking until they get outside the jail. the sunlight burns his brown irises, but it's nice to see the refreshing light of day.

"okay, so riddle me this-austin moon, international superstar, probably a gazillionaire, decides to shoplift a Tiffany's watch that's easily within his price range. hell, it's probably less than his food budget for the week. so why would he take it?" she asks, in a sarcastic, demanding tone.

"i just wanted attention, ally." as soon as he says it, he realizes just how stupid and juvenile his reasoning sounds.

"so you get it by stealing? that is the_ stupidest _thing i've ever heard! i thought you were better than this!"

she starts to walk away, but he grabs her shoulder. for once, he's going to get his say in before she leaves.

"hey, don't judge me. i got lost, ally. i was in love with you ,twice, and you left me, more than once! you're all i ever wanted, and you're the only thing i couldn't have."

"oh my _god_!" ally screams, attracting the attention of the people in the parking lot.

"you should be an actor, not a singer, because you are melodramatic as hell! if me leaving was driving you insane, you could've just told me! not go on a five-finger discount spree! and if it were solely me that was holding you back or holding you together or whatever the hell your excuse is, why'd you wait until five years after i left,huh? you're obviously a load of bullshit, Austin."

"just because you never loved me doesn't mean you need to shoot me down at every angle, miss-i-know-everything dawson!"

"oh, that's pathetic. stop throwing yourself a pity party and pin some blame on yourself and just _grow up_, austin.  
>i had to <em>work<em> for what i have, all by myself, while you relied on teenage girl's obsession and my songs, dez's filmmaking, and trish's managing. what work did _you_ ever put in?"

"that has nothing to do with the conversation at hand, ally-"

ally rips herself away from him and walks towards her car, throwing the keys to his Range Rover (which she'd brought along, like a good friend) at his chest.

"have a nice life, austin. you deserve it." she remarks sarcastically.

then she spins around for a moment.  
>"and i was in love with you, austin, since I was sixteen, for a matter of fact. but after this afternoon, i'll never understand why."<p>

and once again, ally dawson left his life for a moment-until the next random time she'd show up again.

::thirty-two::

on his thirty second birthday, he gets a voicemail.

"hey, austin. i, uh...i didn't mean all of what i said. you should call me."

"bye."

he can't do this anymore. he just can't. he swigs the beer, and there it goes,_ chugchugchug_, bitter and ice-cold as it slips through his dry throat.

he's still got that picture of ally, the one he had at his first awards show-the one he _knew_ ally should've accompanied him to- lingering on his mantle, along with the other various photos they'd taken over the years.  
>he's never been very good at handling nostalgia.<p>

well, he's never really been good at handling things that matter most to him. he even relied on three of his friends to manage his career, isn't that sad?

he wants to forget. wants to forget about people that forgot about him.

the voicemail is on loop, constantly playing back ally's sugar-sweet voice.

"hey, austin, you i-uh, didn't mean what i said. you should call me sometime."

pause.

"i love you." she whispers. he chokes on the beer. apparently, he wasn't very good at observing things, either.

rushing to the ancient landline, he plays the voicemail again.

"i love you."

"i love you."

"i love you."

tears slip down his face-but austin moon doesn't cry.

he calls back. the phone dials, and dials,

"hi, this is ally dawson. i couldn't get to the phone in time, but leave a message after the tone, and i'll get back to you asap. bye!"

choking back his sob, he places his beer on the counter.

"ally. i-i don't even know what's taken me so long to say this, but, i love you. so much, ally. when i saw you, at the sonic boom that day, i knew it. i knew it. i knew, that someday, we were meant for each other.  
>and it's you. you are what i want, all i've wanted, all i needed for the past seventeen years, is you. it's you,alls. i love you, more than anything. and i know, this is a lot to put in a voicemail, but it took me seventeen years to say this, and i'm not waiting anymore.<p>

so maybe i got a little lost along the way, but every stupid move I made was leading me to you. _everything_ leads me to you.

oh, by the way, it's austin."

.

"austin moon. i love you so much." she wraps her arms around him, and they both realize that this is how it was supposed to be. forever.

"i love you, too, ally. do you realize what you mean to me? you're the best part of me. you are literally everything to me. i got so lost not having you around." he says, placing his chin on the top of her head as his tears fell into her hair. he pulls away so he can look her in the eyes and she smiles. he kisses her softly.

"finally." she laughs.

she pulls a sheet of paper out of her bag. "um…i wrote you one more song, austin. i know, it's my job now, writing and singing, but i think you need this."

.

"hi, i'm austin moon, and i'd like to thank all of you for sticking by me all these years, through the ups and downs. and for that, i want to ask for your forgiveness."

"this song is called innocent. and it was written by the lovely, talented, ally dawson!"

the crowd is so confused. ally dawson and austin moon? they were partners again? what?

"but you can call her the future mrs. austin moon." he smiles, and the audience is confused even further.

..."wasn't it beautiful, when you believed in everything, and everybody believed in you?

_it's okay, just wait and see, your string of lights is still bright to me,oh who you are is not where you've been. you're still an innocent._

_it's okay, life is a tough crowd, thirty two and still growing up now, who you are, is not what you did, you're still an innocent._

/

..forever..

ally moon linked her hand through austin moon's. everyone rejoiced, even though they'd never look like they belonged together.  
>but, they did.<p>

and, in that moment, and every moment for the rest of infinity, life was a utopia.

yeah. really.

**A/N: When I first wrote this, I hated it. Coming back to it, I like it. Which is really weird to say, because I hate basically everything I write. But I like this.  
>Yay me.<br>Um.. no caps for stylistic purposes.  
>Hope you enjoyed <strong>**  
>~Tessa~<strong>


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